


Night Whispers

by muzzleofbees



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzzleofbees/pseuds/muzzleofbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary</b>: A response to this prompt: Merlin finds himself incapable of being anything but incredibly sappy after sex with Arthur. To save himself embarrassment (and more girl jokes) he waits until Arthur falls asleep beside him before whispering proclamations of his love, always ending them with a chaste kiss to his lover's skin and the words "Goodnight, sweet prince." One night Arthur feigns sleep, and hears every word.<br/><b>Rating</b>: R for mild smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Whispers

King Arthur always fell asleep first, his breathing giving him away as he slipped into unconsciousness. Merlin listened for the tell-tale change of rhythm before daring to move within the confines of Arthur's arms. He turned to face his king, rearranging his long legs and gangly arms to fit within his lover's tight grip without disturbing him. He preferred to watch Arthur sleep, though it was best the king didn't know that. He admitted to Merlin once that the thought of his guards or his knights watching him while he slept always creeped him out, and Merlin had no reason to believe he made exceptions for lovesick wizards. 

"You're so beautiful," Merlin whispered, like a confession. The truth was, it felt like a confession. There were a million things he could never say out loud--a million things he shouldn't even allow himself to think. If Arthur knew...

But Arthur wouldn't know. Because Merlin knew how to keep his secrets, and he only unburdened his heart when the King was had his face buried in his pillow and the smell of sleep radiating from his body. Merlin could watch him for hours--and had. Countless minutes of Merlin's life had slipped away while he stared at Arthur's unconscious form, trying to understand what he saw in Arthur, trying to grasp the beauty he couldn't explain. 

"I know you don't believe this is love. You save your heart for Guinevere, and maybe that's because she's allowed to say the words. Why shouldn't you love a woman with a heart like Gwen's? I wish I had the same right to look you in the eye..." Merlin stopped, overwhelmed by the image he'd just provided himself. Arthur's beautiful blue eyes, earnest and crystal clear, devoid of anger or impatience, shining with pure affection as he listened to Merlin's heartfelt words. 

"To look you in the eye, and tell you that I love you. Because I do love you. I love your heart. I love how deeply you care for everybody around you, for your kingdom and your people." 

Merlin barely mouthed the words, each no louder than a puff of breath. He had perfected the art of silent speech, but he couldn't quite bring himself to remain completely quiet. It was important to speak the words, somehow. Though he never wanted the king to hear them--the probable consequences of that made Merlin shudder with fear--he needed Arthur to know them. To understand and absorb the sentiment, if only on an unconscious level. 

"I love your courage. I love your bravery, even if I know it's going to be the end of you one day. You're the bravest man I've ever seen, and there's no end to that bravery. You don't even know how brave you are and that just makes me love you all the more." Of course, Arthur had perfect confidence in his skills as a warrior--some might say he was obnoxiously arrogant. But despite being the golden son of a powerful war king, Arthur was still vulnerable. He could be hurt in so many ways, but that didn't stop him from fighting. 

"I'm always going to love you. In this lifetime, in the next, and in all the lifetimes after. Everything I have is yours, and all my power, it belongs to you." 

He nuzzled in closer, his blood still buzzing from their earlier coupling. He could still feel the burn of Arthur entering him, and the memory of Arthur's fingers around his throbbing member made him feel particularly fond of the prat. "I'd love you even if we didn't have a destiny and you weren't my king. I'd love you if you were a simple farmer or stable boy. In fact, there's no version of you I wouldn't love, no part of you I don't adore." 

Merlin wasn't satisfied to end there. He chattered softly, happily, about Albion, about their destiny, about Arthur's true power. Though there were a few things he couldn't say, not even in the safety of Arthur's sleep. He didn't dare confess his magic. He didn't dare mention the magic he sensed inside of Arthur--possibly a remnant of the magic used for his birth, though it was golden and pure, like the Earth magic Merlin felt in the oldest parts of the ancient woods throughout the kingdom. 

"You're glorious. Something precious and rare. You give me a reason to be, an eternal purpose. I hope you understand. I hope you can feel this...I hope it's enough. I hope she makes you happy. There's no price too great for just one minute of your happiness." Merlin cupped Arthur's cheek and tilted his head, leaving a sweet kiss on the corner of Arthur's mouth. "Goodnight, sweet prince." 

Merlin shifted back, but before he could completely break contact, Arthur turned his head enough to claim his mouth. Merlin was too surprised to do anything but kiss him back, their supple lips moving together softly, Arthur's tongue dipping sweetly into his mouth, stealing the breath right from his lungs. The hand on the back of his head made sure he couldn't pull away, and it only took some minor rearranging for the much stronger warrior to have Merlin pinned and trapped on his back, stuck between the luxurious mattress and Arthur's rock solid body. 

"What was that again?" Arthur murmured against his mouth. "I don't think I caught it all."

***

When Merlin didn't answer him, Arthur lifted his head to study his suddenly rigid manservant. Even his lips were hard and thin, none of the easy give Arthur expected from Merlin when they kissed. He stared up at Arthur with wide eyes and...was that fear on his face? It was. He'd seen it enough, he ought to recognize it. But he didn't understand why Merlin was afraid or what he had to fear. 

"Merlin?" 

"You...you heard that?" He whispered, his voice stricken. 

"Yes." 

"All of it?" 

"Most of it." Sometimes Merlin's voice dropped so low that his words ran together. Unfortunately, he had the tendency to do that when things got interesting. "Nearly all of it." 

Merlin winced violently, jerking away like he expected Arthur to follow up his answer with a hard slap across the face. Something painful twisted inside of Arthur, right around the area of his heart. He was a little rough with Merlin, but he never struck the younger man in anger, and he'd certainly didn't give Merlin reason to fear him in his own bed. 

"What is going on with you?" 

"I can explain," Merlin said quickly. "Please, just give me a chance to explain. I didn't mean to keep you awake. Did I keep you awake? I can explain..." 

"Merlin, stop saying that. I'm not asking you for any sort of explanation. Understand?" 

Merlin nodded meekly, and Arthur realized he didn't understand at all. Arthur wasn't exactly great with his emotions, and he didn't understand anything when it came to Merlin. He didn't understand the attraction that ultimately led to Arthur taking Merlin to his bed. He didn't understand why the thought of being without Merlin made him sick to his stomach and unhappy. He forced himself to think of Merlin as only his manservant, because anything other than that threatened to be very big, and messy, and scary too. But as he listened to Merlin babble like a nervous songbird, it occurred to him there was something he always understood. Merlin's heart was pure, his love was undeniable, his loyalty unquestionable, and it all belonged to Arthur. 

Perhaps he thought Merlin was too girly and sentimental for his own good, but Arthur would never turn his back on something so powerful. And in that moment, there was nothing Arthur could say, and so he chose to convey it all without words, claiming Merlin's mouth in long, sweet caress. Merlin tried to resist the kiss at first, but Arthur wouldn't let him, dipping his tongue past Merlin's lips again and again, coaxing him first into relaxing, and then into responding. 

Nobody ever kissed like Merlin, and now Arthur understood why. Because every kiss had been laced with secret meaning, full of emotion he couldn't otherwise articulate. Now Arthur met him with equal emotion, using his tongue to trace his sentiments over Merlin's lips. Merlin clasped the back of his head, his long fingers threading through Arthur's ruffled hair. His legs wrapped around Arthur's hips, and he became completely encased in the cradle of Merlin's body. 

Arthur was exhausted and spent in every sense of the word, but he always craved the heat and solace of Merlin's body, and having the other man grind against him and open himself up to Arthur's searching tongue was enough to reinvigorate him. His cock stirred as the heat gathered in his lower stomach, and soon he was hard, prodding the space between Merlin's thighs. 

He reached between their bodies, his fingers slicking out Merlin's hole. It was still slick with oil and Arthur's earlier spendings. He guided his cock to the pucker, teasing the tight ring of flesh before nudging his way into the channel. Merlin grunted and lifted his hips, his heels digging into Arthur's hips. Arthur slipped into Merlin's body easily, filling him to the hilt before dropping his mouth to Merlin's again. 

They rocked together--but they barely moved at all. Arthur's eyes were heavy, his brain sluggish and his body tired and Merlin seemed happy to follow his lead. He broke away for air, their foreheads touching tenderly, their eyes locked together as Arthur slowly rocked his hips. 

"You're precious to me, too," Arthur whispered, hoping that those were the right words. Maybe he loved Merlin. Probably he loved Merlin. But that didn't seem right, and Arthur was helpless to explain it any other way. It was right to love him, but maybe it was right to adore him--to use another one of Merlin's words. Because this ache in his chest had to have a name. 

They don't cum, and they don't stop. They move together, as one, until they both sink into sleep, Arthur still inside of his lover, and Merlin still wrapped around his beloved prince, his only king.


End file.
